First Kiss
by kehwie
Summary: Pretty much what it says on the tin-Amy and Rory's first kiss. Spoilers through Series 6's The Girl Who Waited.


"I still can't believe you ended up with _him_ ," Jeff said.

 _Of course you can't,_ Rory thought. _You_ _always_ _thought she'd end up with you._

His shift at the hospital had run long, so Rory was late meeting Amy and Jeff and Jeff's date Lucie. The three were already eating and chatting, so clearly his absence hadn't bothered them too much. He slid into the seat next to Amy. "Sorry, sorry. You know how it goes."

Amy made a noise of acquiescence in her throat and leaned toward him for a kiss. Rory meant to keep it to a quick peck—they were in _public_ , after all—but Amy and quick peck just didn't go together. When Amy Pond kissed, it was full-on snogging. She ended up half on Rory's lap, arms wound him, the kiss growing more and more passionate. Rory had never been comfortable with this sort of public display, but he could never resist Amy. He got swept up every single time.

Plus it was kind of fun making Jeff watch.

Amy finally slid back to her own seat, and Rory shifted a bit in his chair.

Lucie gave a girlish giggle. "You two are so _cute_!"

"Cute is not the word I'd choose,"Jeff said dryly.

"Oh, don't be a grump," Lucie said. "They're adorable. I love the 'can't keep your hands off each other' stage. How long have you two been together?"

"About a month," Amy said.

Funny, it was closer to two in Rory's mind. He wondered what Amy considered to be the beginning of their relationship.

"How did you get together?" Lucie asked eagerly.

Amy told the story and thankfully didn't make Rory look _too_ pathetic. She only went on for a _little_ while about her conviction that he was gay. And she did mention briefly how bummed she was at that, because none of the guys she dated ("And trust me, there were _plenty_!") were ever as kind and decent as Rory.

Kind and decent and gay. He supposed it could've been worse.

"So how did you finally learn that he was not only straight but was totally into you? Did he make a move?" Lucie was enthralled.

Both Amy and Jeff snorted at that. "Rory was convinced he was nothing other than Amy's best mate," Jeff said. "He'd never have risked making a move."

Well, that was true.

"So what happened?" Lucie asked. "Clearly _something_ did!"

"Our friend Mels happened," Amy said. "She kind of outed both our feelings to each other with all the subtlety of being flattened by a bus."

It _had_ felt a bit like being hit by a bus, Rory reflected. He could still feel the horror and humiliation that struck him as Amy's eyes widened in understanding. He was so not gay; he'd just been in love with Amy Pond for so long that no other girl was even on the radar.

He was Amy-sexual.

"What was your first kiss like?" Lucie persisted.

 _A disaster_ , Rory thought. He still remembered gathering up every ounce of courage he possessed and pressing his lips to hers for the first time at a party. She'd shoved him away—hard enough to knock him to the floor—and shouted, "Ew, gross!" while the Macarena played on in the background. Then in typical Amy fashion she'd immediately dragged him off to play Raggedy Doctor with her, declaring the party games boring. And in typical Rory fashion, he'd obediently trotted off after her.

He'd sworn off kissing girls forever in that moment, even though he'd only been eight. He still hated hearing the Macarena; thankfully once the craze died out no one seemed interested in playing it much. He didn't have to be reminded too often of his utter failure in the area of romance.

But Amy probably didn't even remember it. She hadn't wanted that kiss, and she hadn't cried into her pillow at night for two weeks straight afterward. She was telling Lucie a different first-kiss tale—the one where she'd chased after Rory when he bolted from the room after Mels's little bombshell. The one where she caught up to him outside and practically tackled him. The one where he barely even recovered his wits enough to catch her as she threw herself at him, let alone kiss her back. And she was smiling, and Jeff was laughing, and Lucie's hands were clasped together in delight.

It made for a much better story anyway.

##############

Apalapucia, Rory decided as he collapsed on the bed, was one of the worst experiences of his life. He didn't think he could ever forgive the Doctor...or himself. Older Amy's last words to him outside the TARDIS doors would always haunt him.

He'd left her there. She was Amy, and he'd just left her there. Somehow the fact that she had begged him to do it or that now she would never have existed at all didn't help any. She'd been real. He'd talked to her, laughed with her, _kissed_ her.

She'd been Amy, and he'd let her down.

Sleep wouldn't come, so Rory just stared at the wall, a jumble of unconnected thoughts crashing through his head.

His Amy and her tears and fear coupled with her unwavering belief that he would not leave her there.

Older Amy with her bitterness and cynicism yet she'd named her only companion Rory. She had grown to hate the Doctor (and who could've seen that one coming?), but somehow she still loved Rory—loved him enough to tear time apart for him.

Rory had traveled with the Doctor to places he'd never known could exist and seen and done things he never could have dreamed of. But the moments in his life that stunned him speechless tended to revolve around one Amelia Jessica Pond.

He'd loved her for longer than he could even remember. How in the world had he gotten lucky enough for her to love him back?

But somehow she did. He'd heard them today, his Amy and the older version talking. _All those boys chasing me, but it was only ever Rory._

Only ever him. Just like for him it had only ever been her.

And when the Doctor had told them they needed a thought, a thought so "powerful that it can rip through time...the most important thought you have ever had," both women had immediately chosen the Macarena.

Their first kiss...the real first kiss. She hadn't forgotten it after all. It had even _meant_ something to her somehow.

The most important thought she'd ever had.

 _It was only ever Rory._

Amy entered the room then, fresh from a shower. She joined him on the bed—actually she draped herself across him. Not that he minded. He wrapped his arms around her, more grateful than ever that she was here and she was his.

"You okay?" she asked.

"Yeah."

He wasn't, not really. Not yet. But he was getting there.

 _It was only ever Rory._

For the first time, he was beginning to believe it.


End file.
